I've actually been thinking about making one of these for a while, but could never think of a great enough setting to start it in. Then it came to me, what could be a better foundation for a story other than one centered around myself??

Honestly, I only see two ways this could end:It'll either crash and burn as it collapses on itself in a glorious clusterfuck of insanity, or quietly fade into the sea of forgotten forum games after only a couple replies. And that's OK. I know that even pretending to be on the same level of greatness as me can be a bit too much to handle. Either way, I'm curious to see how it turns out.

So here I sit, Omnipotent God-King of Everything, ruler of all things ruleable, currently inhabiting the heavily customized organic structure of a sixteen year old male, in my Base of Operations. Resting upon my Blue Swivel Chair of Supreme Comfort(which I assure you does not live up to its title), I wonder what to do as I await replies to a recently posted forum game of mine...

As this story continues to grow, it has become apparent to me that some form of organization will be needed. So, for those who don't like reading through cancelled suggestions and flavored milk debates, I've gone through the trouble of creating an

♪♫♫♪♫♪♫♫♪♪♪♫♪bay12 lower boards IRC:irc.darkmyst.org @ #bay12lb"Oh, they never lie. They dissemble, evade, prevaricate, confoud, confuse, distract, obscure, subtly misrepresent and willfully misunderstand with what often appears to be a positively gleeful relish ... but they never lie" -- Look To Windward

"Hmm, If I am truly the "Omnipotent God-King of Everything" why am I only 16?" I ask myself, staring at my reflection in the window. "You're an Omnipotent God-King of Everything, why the hell not?", my reflection responds. Good point, me.

Clearing my voice a little, I put forth the question(to myself)of how much weed is currently in my possession. In a brilliant yet stereotypical Irish accent, of course. "Well, we're certainly going to find out!" I say, rising from my Blue Swivel Chair of Supreme Comfort.After a swift search of my Base of Operations, I conclude that there is currently no weed within my ownership. I then spent the next few minutes convincing myself that, despite the magnificently executed accent, I am not of Irish descent.

>Find some sort of weapon and pose in the mirror with it to raise your badassery. Then, keep it on hand forever.

yes, badassery levels must be raised! And what better way to do so than an astounding pose with a piece of weaponry? But where to find weaponry...Oh right, maybe on my Amazing Wall of Weaponry. Turning to face the wall, I see I have several choices:

A strong, wooden staff. Roughly 6 ft. in length. A gift from a loved one, obtained from a mysterious merchant.

>Realize that those weapons are all just terribly made toys you bought from a nearby store.

I am struck with the thought that my Amazing Wall of Weaponry may simply be filled with playthings, rather than actual weaponry. Somehow purchased by myself without my knowing. Glancing at the scar on my hand I gained as a result of a mishap with one of them, I deduce that, if they are toys, they are incredibly kickass ones.

>Right, get some nasty weed from the cheapest drug dealer you know, then start selling it to young children, round the age of ten. We need money.

I find my lack of weed disturbing. More of the substance must be obtained! I do know drug dealers who may be able to supply me with a rather vile batch of the stuff. Unfortunately, I have no idea where they live, or how much they would charge for their wares(friend-of-a-friend type connections, you see). Looks like my dreams of bestowing it upon the young for cash will have to be put on hold.

>Realize that those weapons are all just terribly made toys you bought from a nearby store.

This, then reach into the mirror and pull out your real weapon. The Really Cool Sword. Or is it a spear? You can't quite remember which it is.

I turn back toward my Amazing Wall of Weaponry, "Sorry, friends of blunt and blade. But today, I shall need a weapon of a different sort." I then grab a handheld mirror I had laying around...

"wait...what the hell am I doing?", I ask myself as I prepare to reach into said mirror. "I almost forgot to pull my sleeve up!". After a quick adjustment of clothing, I reach into the depths of the mirror, and grab something pointy. I begin to lift the object out of the mirror, and find that it is in fact a large spearhead! And what's this? It's connected to a spearshaft! What luck!

Ignoring the considerable amount of blood pouring from my hand as a result of gripping the enigmatic spearhead, I begin to pull the rest of the spear from the depths of the mirror. It seems to be made of some type of metal, but unlike any I've encountered before. The shaft is covered in glowing engravings of some language I am unable to decipher, and, tied near the base of the spearhead, are long flowing bands of some unknown cloth, colored red and black.

After pulling several feet of the spear through the mirror, It becomes much harder to progress as I notice I have put a nice hole in the ceiling of my Base of Operations. Setting the mirror on the floor, I am able to pull the rest of the weapon out of it. To my surprise, there is the blade of a sword at its end! This isn't a mystical and mysterious mirror spear at all, it's a mystical and mysterious mirror spearsword! It has to be at least ten feet in length, and it makes a cool 'fwoosh' sound when I move it. Groovy.